Free Laced with Poison by Meg London Page B

it.
    Emma wrapped her arms around herself. “A bit. It feels good.”
    “Here. Take my jacket.” Brian slipped out of his blazer and placed it around Emma’s
     shoulders.
    She could feel the warmth of his body contained within the fabric and could smell
     the combination of his tangy aftershave and the sharper smell of soap. She closed
     her eyes and inhaled deeply.
    When she opened her eyes, Brian was watching her intently. “I want to thank you for
     coming with me tonight. I hope you’re having a good time.” His voice dropped to a
     husky level, and he said softly, “I am.” He tilted his head slowly and moved it toward
     Emma’s. She closed her eyes again.
    And then she felt his lips on hers.

EMMA could still remember the first time she flew on an airplane. Her parents were
     taking her to Florida for winter break. She remembered looking out at the fluffy,
     white clouds and wondering what it would be like to float on one of them.
    Now she knew.
    Brian’s kiss had transported her into another world where everything was light, bright
     and weightless. The feeling stayed with her all day Sunday.
    “You look different. Something’s happened,” Arabella declared as soon as she walked
     into Sweet Nothings on Monday morning and saw Emma’s expression.
    “Nothing’s happened. Why?” Emma could feel the smile spreading across her face.
    Arabella laughed as she unclipped Pierre’s leash. “It’s written all over your face.
     Something happened. Something good.”
    Emma momentarily buried her face in her hands. It seemed so ridiculous all of a sudden—to
     be excited because a boy had kissed you. That was high school stuff.
    “I gather you had a good time at the wedding on Saturday,” Arabella said, her tone
     drier than the Sahara.
    “Oh yes. It was lovely.” Emma turned around and busied herself with sorting out one
     of the drawers.
    Arabella sighed. “My weekend wasn’t as good as yours obviously was.”
    “Oh no.” Emma spun around.
    Arabella shrugged. “I had dinner with Les on Sunday night.”
    Emma saw Arabella roll her eyes, an uncharacteristic gesture for her aunt.
    “It was rather tedious. We had an early dinner at Ruggero’s Italian Bistro—you know
     that place out at the Paris Winery?” Arabella fiddled with the strand of amber beads
     around her neck. “Dinner was lovely, but Les made it clear he’s hoping for some sort
     of…commitment…from me.” Arabella laughed. “I’ve managed to avoid that sort of responsibility
     all my life. As soon as a man got too serious,” she snapped her fingers, “I said good-bye
     and good luck.” She smiled fondly at Emma. “Had I known it might have been possible
     to have a dear daughter like you to share my life with, perhaps I wouldn’t have run
     away from marriage quite so fast.” She sighed. “But at this time in my life…” She
     shrugged. “There’s no point.”
    A thud against the front door startled them both.
    “Sorry. It’s just me.” Sylvia pushed the door open and wrangled her oxygen tank over
     the threshold.
    Arabella put down a lacy camisole she was folding. “How’s life at Sunny Days?”
    Sylvia made a rude noise. “Some things are okay, but I swear I’m goingto deck that Decker woman if she keeps telling people I’m the one stealing things.”
    “That doesn’t sound too good,” Arabella said.
    “Eh.” Sylvia shrugged a shoulder. “Could be worse. My new friend Earl’s got a real
     head for cards, so we’ve been partnering up. So far we’ve won a free lunch in the
     dining room, a rubber jar opener and a bright yellow umbrella with
Sunny Days
written on it.”
    “I still don’t like the fact that that woman is going around bad-mouthing you.” Arabella
     frowned.
    “I signed up to volunteer,” Emma said. “I’ll go over after work and see if they have
     anything for me to do. Maybe I can help Sylvia get to the bottom of things.”
    “Believe me,” Sylvia said, “I’d be eternally